


Negotiations

by celeryy



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:51:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeryy/pseuds/celeryy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as speculation immediately after 5.13 To'hajiilee. Walt bargains for Jesse's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to come up with the worst possible outcome and write it out, so that once I'd predicted it, it couldn't possibly happen.
> 
> Here's the result of that exercise...

* * *

We pick up in the aftermath of the shootout.

 

Hank and Gomez are dead. _Way_ dead. Riddled-with-more-holes-than-a-Swiss-cheese dead. And Jesse didn’t manage to run too far. He’s on his knees at gunpoint, Jack’s machine gun to the back of his neck. (Kind of depressing how familiar that feels…)

Walt yells, “NO! Don’t shoot!”

Why the fuck not? asks Jack. This was what he wanted, right?

"I have an alternative."

Walt wants to work out a deal. Jack’s crew needs a better cook - but Walt doesn’t want to come out of retirement. Fortunately, Jesse can cook practically as well as he can: 96%, (and most importantly, _blue_.) Walt says, let Jesse live, make him cook for you instead, for as long as you want.

_Are you fucking kidding me?!_

Jesse is _beyond_ enraged. He’d come _so close_ to winning and now everything has gone completely utterly wrong, _again_. He can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Not in a million years! You better fucking shoot me!!! - he’s shouting, red-faced and spitting mad. He doesn’t even care anymore if he lives or dies.

Walt doesn’t look at him. He stares at Jack, Heisenberg poker-face firmly in place.

"And if he doesn’t cooperate," he says, "you’ll kill Andrea Cantillo. Along with her son, Brock."

Jesse shuts up really fast. His eyes go wide.

_He told them about Brock and Andrea??! He fucking TOLD THEM?!?!_

"You SON OF A _BITCH_!” he screams hoarsely, angry tears springing to his eyes. He’s shaking with rage and disbelief and frustration, because once _again_ , the devil has pulled a trump card out of thin air to screw him over.

It feels like a direct slap in the face from the Universe as punishment for getting his hopes up, and it shouldn’t sting as much as it does. He’s supposed to be used to it by now, after all.

Walt’s face stays blank. His eyes flick towards Jesse for the briefest moment, the only visible hint of any guilt he might or might not be feeling.

 _I’m sorry._ _But you gave me no choice. I’m doing what’s best for you_.

If Jesse doesn’t believe him, so be it. He still spared his life, yet again, which is probably more than he deserves after such a profound betrayal. Walt looks back up at Jack and continues to ignore Jesse’s protesting shouts.

"Well?"

There’s silence. Jack considers. He starts lowering the gun, when-

_BANG!_

Brain matter splatters sideways onto the desert sand.

Jesse’s body collapses, tear-stained eyes staring emptily. Walt gasps out loud and stumbles back in shock.

"Actually, Mr. White…"

Todd walks over to stand next to his uncle. Calm as you please, he carefully tucks the smoking gun back into his waistband.

"…we’d rather have you."


End file.
